Stags Butting Antlers
by DinoDina
Summary: Luna and Rolf are in Finland, searching for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, when Rolf comes across a small problem. Luna/Rolf oneshot. Written for QLFC.


**Written for QLFC Round 9  
** **Team:** Wigtown Wandererers  
 **Position:** Beater 2  
 **Prompt:** Bambi - this does not have to be a complete rewrite or AU; write your prompt however you please (two guys fighting over a girl)  
 **Additional Prompts:** 2\. (word) clumsy, 11. (restriction) exactly three characters must feature, 12. (word) kaleidoscope  
 **Words:** 1350

 **Thanks to Firefly, Liza, Carmen, and Emily for betaing and helping!**

Luna sat down on a rock, leaning her canvas bag against it and taking off her shoes. She wiggled her toes in her wool socks, then stretched her knees. She'd been walking for too long—they all had.

"Can I take them off?" she asked Siro Laine, the local magizoologist-cum-tour guide.

"I don't see why you'd want to," He grimaced at the grass, wet from rain, then shrugged. "But sure."

Luna smiled at him and peeled off her socks, stuffing them into her shoes, then flexed her toes. It wasn't _too_ cold and her bare skin quickly got used to the climate. Siro carefully laid his patterned quilt—a gift from Luna, which was so garish it looked like a series of disjointed kaleidoscope images—out onto the grass as Luna closed her eyes and breathed in the breeze from the bay.

As she hummed quietly under her breath, he took out a basket with their lunch, conjured three plates, and summoned a wine bottle.

"You probably shouldn't do that," Luna said suddenly.

"Why not?"

"Crumple-Horned Snorkacks hate wine," she explained. Laughing, she opened her eyes. "If I can smell it with the bottle still closed, they definitely can!"

Siro raised an eyebrow in doubt, but she'd already looked away. For a moment, he wondered what her attention had wandered to—it often went to nowhere—but a cheerful greeting answered his question.

"I found the map!" Rolf Scamander, Luna's travelling companion, was saying. Siro could almost hear the grin in his voice. "It was at the lake we went to yesterday; still there, even after the rain! Oh, hello, Siro!"

"Hello," Siro dutifully replied.

"Aren't you cold?" Scamander asked Luna before he'd even finished. "It's summer, I know, but we're right next to the sea."

"I like it," Luna said softly.

Scamander flashed her an adoring smile. Siro had noticed that the boy never talked when he gazed at her like that, which was a welcome reprieve from his incessant chatter. He could understand the adoring glances, of course; for all her strangeness, Luna Lovegood was charming.

"And I think I know where we can look next," Scamander said. Siro could hear the map rustle.

He focused instead on laying out lunch. Sandwiches, butterbeer—since Luna didn't want the wine—several chocolates, all carefully laid out on their respective plates. He put Luna's plate closest to the rock she was sitting on, and his right next to hers. Scamander's would go on the other side of the blanket, in the shade.

"We'll find it soon," Luna announced, speaking to Siro now as well as Scamander. "Daddy and I have already searched Sweden, and I know Rolf and I have only just crossed over into Finland, but I think . . . I think we're almost there."

Siro didn't need her almost prophet-like confidence to know that they'd never find any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Her and Scamander's fool's errand had brought them to Finland, just as she'd said; and in Finland, he was their navigator. Siro smiled at her enthusiasm.

"Oh, look, Luna!" Scamander said after praising her determination (which he did in such a poetic manner that Siro almost felt his ears start to bleed). "Siro's got lunch all set up! We should—"

"You go on, Rolf."

Siro looked up from the quilt angrily.

Scamander stared at her with wide eyes.

"I want to walk around a bit," Luna continued as if she hadn't seen them. "You eat, and maybe we'll have a few more places to search."

Then, with a nod, she got off her rock and walked away. Siro stared at her shoes, still next to the rock and wondered if he should go after her and get her to put them on.

"Siro?" _Oh, Scamander had been talking_.

Siro started. "Yes?"

"What did you bring for lunch?" Scamander gave him that infernal smile, the one that said _I'm nice and kind and innocent, and won't you love me please?_

Siro gestured to the plates.

It was quite amusing to watch the boy dig into his food. He ate with the enthusiasm and enjoyment of a child, smiling the entire time. He'd had to brush his hair out of his face several times in the past three minutes, which had made Siro glad he'd cut his own several weeks prior.

He hadn't been wrong when he'd referred to Scamander as a child, Siro thought again. He was at least ten years younger, and looked as though he'd never even shaved! He looked pathetic, at best, with his too-long limbs and smitten smiles.

"Scamander," Siro started after the boy finished wiping his mouth from the butterbeer. "I—"

"Thank you for the lunch! It was really—"

"You're welcome," Siro cut over the interruption. "Scamander, I was saying . . . look at me, please, when I'm talking to you."

"Siro . . ."

"Miss Lovegood is quite lovely, isn't she?" Siro asked. He knew that the subject would give him Scamander's undivided attention, and he was right. The boy looked directly at him. "Like I said: Miss Lovegood is lovely. And I can see how you look at h—"

"You won't tell her, will you?" Scamander had a panicked note in his voice. "I know I'm an obvious fool, but I love her, I think, and I know how it looks—completely unprofessional, but I've been nothing but respectful, I promise—but I really _do_ care for her. Do you think I have a chance, Siro? It's just, I planned to tell her when we got back to—"

"Back. Off."

Scamander stared at him.

"You see," Siro continued. "Miss Lovegood is a very attractive woman. I, as you can see, am a very attractive man. _You_ , Mr. Scamander, are . . . _not_."

More staring. Siro would have laughed if he wasn't busy staking his claim.

"Scamander, I do not doubt that you're a very nice boy, but Miss Lovegood needs a man who can protect her. Who can provide for her. Who can give her what she really—"

"Miss Lovegood can choose for herself." Scamander stood up.

"And she will," Siro agreed. "As soon as you tell her that you've decided to go back home. Or decided to end your pursuit."

"Miss Lovegood can choose for herself," Scamander repeated. He took a step backwards on the quilt, trying to leave—or find Luna, which would not have looked good for Siro. "And she will, just as soon as she—oh, she's on her way back now."

Siro turned around. True enough, she was heading to them, and was only about a hundred meters away. He turned back to Scamander, who, as soon as Siro's gaze was on him again, took another step back.

And promptly tripped over his too-large feet.

He frantically waved his arms in an attempt to regain his balance, but couldn't gather enough coordination for that, and fell forward. One of his arms caught Siro in the face, and the rest of Scamander's weight tipped him over into the rock.

The last thing Siro heard before losing consciousness was a slightly panicked, "Luna, I didn't mean to hurt him, please help me!"

* * *

"He'll be alright," Siro heard through a haze. "He's got potions for the pain and to wake him up."

"That's good," came a response. Luna, Siro realised. "And we've provided the healers with his brother's address"

"And his parents'," Scamander, the first person he'd heard, added. Siro wondered why he was there with Luna; surely, as the person who'd injured Siro, he'd be in some sort of trouble? "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I'm afraid we're not that close," Luna replied, and Siro could hear her regret. "He was just our guide for a brief time, but now that we know he's alright . . . there's no reason for us to stay, not after the way he treated you."

"And you," Scamander added lightly.

"I'm alright, Rolf." And Siro heard them turn and walk away, their steps echoing back to him in tandem.


End file.
